Shitto
by Thethuthinnang
Summary: Jealousy.
1. 1: Jealousy

Disclaimer: Gokusen is the property of Kozueko Morimoto.

There are exactly four people in the world of whom Ooshima Kyotaro is really, irrationally, blindingly, violently, _consumingly_ jealous.


	2. 2: Shinohara

Disclaimer: Gokusen is the property of Kozueko Morimoto.

He can't bring himself to hate Shinohara.

It's hard for anyone to dislike Shinohara. The man is loyal, conscientious, and honest. He is fearless in the face of danger, cool under pressure, and dependable in any circumstance. He never forgets a debt, keeps any promise he makes, no matter how trivial, and is both considerate and gracious without exception, wherever he is and whatever he is doing. He is intelligent, cunning, and prudent, cautious when caution is needed but bold when the occasion calls for it. He is a leader in spirit, someone who paves the way for others, but he can also follow, with true and absolute dedication, if the cause is one he believes in.

He is the kind of man who could someday be _kumicho_.

Except, of course, that will never happen, because Shinohara, for all his commitment to serving Kuroda Ryuchiro, is a _katagi_ at heart. It is his one, big flaw.

Still, he can't hate Shinohara. Not for that. The man is only adhering to his principles, trying to live honorably and according to his beliefs while paying back a debt that really only exists anymore in his own mind. That is the kind of man that he can respect, a man that he could willingly and sincerely call a friend.

And then Shinohara will go and do something like telling _Ojou_ that her sitting for an _omiai_ with some jerk from another _kumi_ isn't such a bad idea, and Kyotaro could cheerfully stab Shinohara in his fucking _eye_.

No, he doesn't like Shinohara. But he doesn't hate Shinohara either, or even really dislike him. The feeling that most often defines any interaction between the two of them is more like...frustration. Confusion, maybe—no. Frustration. Frustrations sounds about right.

Frustration because it's hard to watch the way _Ojou_ lights up at the sight of Shinohara, to watch how she smiles just for him. Frustration because he _knows_ that Shinohara knows how she feels about him, knows that she's been in love with him for years and years. Frustration because he has to stand there and watch, hating and hating it, while _Ojou_ pines over Shinohara and Shinohara consistently and determinedly keeps his distance from _Ojou_.

Frustration because while he _hates_ seeing her sad, _hates_ seeing her disappointed again and again, he's also relieved.

Relieved, unutterably, inexpressibly _relieved_, each and every time Shinohara shrugs off _Ojou_'s advances and pretends not to notice anything.

Mostly Kyotaro hates himself. He hates himself when he feigns at making some lame effort to push the two together, ostensibly supporting _Ojou_ in her pursuit of the man when actually he would rather chew broken glass before doing any such thing. He hates himself when he does it anyway, knowing that Shinohara will not fail to politely and obliviously refuse her, knowing that her hopes are doomed to failure from the start. He hates himself when he catches himself wavering between resentment and gratitude—resentment, because he can't bear to see _Ojou_'s crushed expression every time Shinohara rebuffs her, and gratitude, because Shinohara's stubborn refusal to even consider this beautiful, incomparable woman is sometimes all that keeps Kyotaro from falling on his _dosu_.

And then, just every now and again, at certain moments, at certain times, when he catches Shinohara looking at him with a certain, peculiar expression, an expression somewhere between sympathy and contempt, an expression of _pity_—

—then Kyotaro realizes that yes, in fact, he actually _can_ bring himself to hate Shinohara.


	3. 3: Sawada

Disclaimer: Gokusen is the property of Kozueko Morimoto.

He actually felt sorry for the brat at first.

Like a puppy, that one, all youthful confusion and longing under a good display of unearned, premature stoicism. Chasing at his teacher's heels, snapping and barking to get her attention, sulking when he doesn't and barely able to hide his wagging tail when he does. Watching her, sniffing after her, following her home whenever and however he can, desperate for the slightest glance, desperate not to show it.

A puppy.

Kyotaro felt for the kid, he really did. It's tough to want someone so much you can't get them out of your head, to be so filled up with hunger for the sight and sound and smell of someone that you barely know what to do with yourself from day to day. A torture, almost, an agony unbearable for even a day, a week, a month. A year.

Or seven.

So he was sympathetic to the brat, he really was. The boy isn't a _bad_ kid—he's actually very decent, with a wide streak of courage and a tendency toward honorable behavior. Cautious, not easily agitated, but not afraid to get into a fight, and no pushover when he does. Temperamental, but not volatile, with a certain charismatic quality that marks all the good captains—the kind of _yakuza_ that everyone can see is a top quality officer, maybe even a boss, in the making.

Sawada is someone. Someone to like. Someone to want around. Someone Kyotaro could actually _respect_, under any other circumstances.

Except he won't fucking stop following _Ojou_ around like a lost goddamn puppy and it's starting to get really, really _annoying_.

_What's the harm in it?_ Kyotaro remembers thinking. A kid like that, what was he, seventeen, sixteen, twelve, whatever—and a woman like _Ojou_, and his teacher at that? Yeah. Like that's ever going to happen.

He'd even given the kid that idiotic nickname—_Young Master Red Lion_. What the fuck had he been smoking? Except somehow it had stuck, and now everyone was calling the brat "Young Master Red Lion" and "Ooshima's brother," as if they'd shared a bond of blood and tears and Sawada was already part of the Kuroda family when Kyotaro barely knew the bastard and had only taken him out once on impulse.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He tries not to think about it much, and there really isn't much to think about to begin with, since he hardly ever sees Sawada anyway. And nothing Sawada does really offends him or irritates him, the boy doesn't _deliberately_ do anything that's anywhere near insulting or bothersome. And he's _Ojou'_s student, after all, so Kyotaro smiles and jokes and plays at being the big, brotherly gangster, slapping him on the arm and teasing him about his little crush.

Except.

Except he's somehow always _there_, isn't he, even when there's no rational reason for him to be, and _Ojou_ is always somehow having to pay attention to him, even when they're not at school.

Except he's always, always involved one way or another, whatever the situation, wherever the place.

And Kyotaro tries not to think about the way _Ojou_ looked at Sawada when he talked the bastard into wearing a _fundoshi_, the way she stared, as if nothing and no one else existed.

Or the way it was _Sawada_ who was there to rescue her when the Nekomata punks got their hands on her, that it was Sawada who carried her out of there.

Or the way the boss seems to look at Sawada these days, talking to him so familiarly, as if the brat were a nephew.

Or a grandson.

It's completely absurd. Sawada is a boy in high school, and about as _katagi_ as they come—look at who his father is! Kyotaro knows he is being unreasonable, that he is seeing things where there isn't anything to see. He knows he's holding a grudge against this kid for no good reason, unfairly and without cause, especially in light of how Sawada even saved _Ojou_'s life. He knows he's being irrational, and unjust.

He knows he has no reason whatsoever, no reason at all, to dislike the boy as much as this.

But he does.

And every time Sawada Shin calls him "Ossan," it's all he can do not to snap the brat's neck.


End file.
